Where The Heart Is
by The Gray Lady
Summary: After her brother Sam departs on his great quest, Marigold Gamgee and her friend Rosie remain at home, observing firsthand the destruction of the Shire as they know it. The story of the home front: drama and much worry with a touch of humor on the side.
1. 1: Autumns That There Were

**DISCLAIMER**: Though it fascinates me to no end, I do not claim ownership over any of J.R.R. Tolkien's work.

**Chapter One: Autumns That There Were**

_25 September, 1418 S.R._

_Hobbiton_

It was warm, unusually so for late September in Hobbiton. The sky was a brilliant shade of blue, the sun bright and welcoming with only an occasional puff of cloud to float across it. Nearly every lass and lad in the village was enjoying this unexpected burst of summer-like weather. They ran about in small groups, the girls picking flowers and chattering happily as the boys played various loud and rowdy games. The older hobbits were assembled on their porches, discussing the events of the day, drinking tea and eating enough food to sustain an army.

One of the hobbit-lasses had found a comfortable spot for herself in a grassy area under the shade of a wide oak tree, and she lay underneath it with her arms crossed behind her head, eyes closed. She looked to be just out of her tweens, and had long honey-colored hair arranged in two braids down her shoulders. She wore a simple green dress that blended well with the thick green grass in which she was laying. Perhaps she was asleep, or so comfortable she did not wish to look up, but the girl did not acknowledge the soft footsteps of an approaching hobbit until they were inches away from her ear.

Opening one eye to look calmly up at the figure above her, Marigold Gamgee grinned and pulled herself up on her elbows, shaking her head slightly to remove any traces of sleep.

"Hullo there, Rosie," she said in her loud but musical voice, "where have you been hiding this fine morning?"

The other girl rolled her eyes with a smile before making herself comfortable on the ground beside Marigold. "I, unlike you, actually have things around the house that need doing, and I do them before going outside to frolic in the grass and whatnot."

Marigold dismissed her friend's words with a wave of a hand. "So do I, but I also have sisters to help me out. And ever since Sam left..." at this she glared in the vague direction of Buckland and Crickhollow, "the hole has been less than cheerful, between the Gaffer's muttering about 'lads that have need for crossing rivers as much as taters have need for legs' and May's constant mooning over the Chubb boy." Marigold, to herself, though that Bolco Chubb was not worth anyone's mooning.

Rosie shook her curly head with the smallest of laughs, as she knew a fair lot of what went on in her best friend's golden head. "Goldie, Sam's only been gone for two days, you surely can't be missing him that sorely."

"Ah, but it's a lot more fun when he's around," said Marigold knowingly, "And don't deny that you're missing him quite 'sorely' yourself." The bright red cheeks of Rose were enough to confirm her statement. Goldie laughed, again, and gave her friend's blue skirt a tug, signifying that she should join her on the ground. As Rosie made herself comfortable on the grass, Marigold continued talking.

"What I sure don't understand is why Frodo Baggins would go off and sell Bag End- Bag End, of all places!- to hobbits like the Sackville-Bagginses. I know Ponto Baggins wouldn't have bought it- Lily and Angelica would never agree to leave their hole- but Peony and Milo, or Daisy and Griffin, could surely have afforded it at the price Frodo gave the S.-B.'s.-There's something _about_ that family, if you catch my meaning."

Rosie ran a thoughtful hand through her dark curls, and shrugged, shaking her head rather sadly. "Goldie, if I knew, I'd tell you. We can be sure he didn't run out of money- why, last time your Gaffer came to visit my dad he told him all about that new gardening equipment Frodo had bought for him some time before he left!"

Her companion sighed and lay back down on the grass, staring angrily up at what she could see of the bright blue sky through the branches of the oak tree. "I reckon I agree with you, but the Gaffer's not going to need any gardening equipment, not with Sam gone and Lotho and Lobelia presiding over Bag End," she muttered under her breath. Marigold disliked change of any sort, and she felt that the changes coming over the Westfarthing were going to be more than they'd bargained for.

Before Rose could comment on her friend's statement, the two hobbitesses heard the rumbling of a cart, coming nearer by way of the Bywater Road. Marigold sat up again, half-hoping that the cart would belong to Gandalf, the old wizard she rather suspected had been involved in the departure of her brother and the Master of Bag End. Marigold had always been the most curious member of the Gamgee family, as well as the most short-tempered, and she was already planning to give Gandalf a stern hobbit talking-to, demanding of him to bring everyone back to their rightful place.

Rosie and Marigold had not been the only ones to notice the sound of the cart- it seemed to be a large one, and every Hobbiton hobbit was starving for new things to discuss. The topic of the "mad Bagginses" was, of course, one that they could never truly exhaust, but every hobbit needs a break every few hours or so.

Instead of Gandalf, or anyone that could give Marigold the opportunity to vent her frustration, the cart was being driven by an unfamiliar Big Man. He looked rather satisfied, moving at a leisurely pace with a pipe in his mouth, and his cart was full of crates- whether empty or full, they could not tell. His face was not friendly, and as he passed by each group of hobbits, he seemed to smirk at them. Marigold stiffened, and looked after the strange man with apprehension as he made for Bagshot Row and further on, Bag End.

Turning to Rosie Cotton the golden-haired hobbitess frowned thoughtfully. "I sure don't like the look of things, Rosie. I don't like the look of them at all."

**A/N:** Hello all, and thank you so much for reading! This is my first attempt at actually posting a LOTR story of mine, based on a concept I have always found interesting- what, exactly, went on in the Shire as the Fellowship travelled? How did the families of the four hobbits react to their sudden disappearance? I have tried to stick to as much knowledge as we have of the Shire and it's inhabitants, but a lot of it will be, of course, pure guesswork and imagination. I welcome any reviews, and any suggestions you may have! Thanks so much!


	2. 2: Gone with the Fog

**A/N: **Thank you very much to Meldiriel-SoftTwilight for reviewing, and to all other who have read this story. I've tried to make this chapter longer and more eventful, and have tried to stick to the canon as much as possible. Enjoy, and thank you again!

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Tolkien, but I am perhaps a little too in love with his work.

**Chapter Two: Gone With The Fog**

_30 September, S.R. 1418_

_Market Day_

_Hobbiton_

The weather had become colder, much colder. The warmth and sun of the week before had given way to mist and clouds, and as Marigold Gamgee walked out the door of Number Three Bagshot Row, she thought that there was something unnatural about the dense, gloomy fog. As she saw Rosie Cotton standing at the other end of the Row, waiting as patiently as always, Marigold shook off her fears and looked back into the hole, calling out a goodbye to the Gaffer.

She was clad in one of her warmer dresses, a plaid red-and-brown one made from fabric given to her by Frodo Baggins on his last birthday, and had tied a scarf around her golden-brown hair to keep her frizzy culs tame. The hobbitess carried a large basket, empty save for a list of goods she need to buy tucked into the side. Marigold walked the length of the Row quickly, waving a greeting at her friend.

In reply, Rosie shivered and wrapped her cloak closer around her shoulders. "This fog is so dreary," she said, mirroring Goldie's thoughts. "I would much rather sit home with a cup of tea in front of the fireplace, snug and warm. My mum wasn't having any of that, though- she told me that it was market day, and I was going out to run errands, like it or not."

Marigold laughed as she began the familiar descent down The Hill, side by side with her friend. "And, of course, you wanted to see me, so you came all the way out here anyway."

"Marigold Gamgee, I know for a fact you'd rather be at my place with a cup of my mother's tea just as well! Not to mention my dear brother Tom is there..."

Goldie cut the other hobbitess off before she could finish the sentence, not wanting to admit any of her true feelings about her best friends' brother, "Well, someone should tell your dear brother Tom that if he wants his affection to be noticed, he ought to do more than sit on the other side of the room and stare!"

Both girls were overcome by a fit of laughter, but Marigold was the first to recover. "Either way, I think I've found someone new to fancy... though he's up and left Bag End, again!"

Rosie nodded knowingly, "Ah yes, my dear, I've seen _you_ smiling like a fool at that Brandybuck lad..."

"You make it sound quite a bit worse that it is!"

"Well, he doesn't even live on the right side of the River!"

They continued bickering playfully all the way to the center of the village, where there were many stalls and carts assembled, all filled with various goods from all over the Westfarthing. There was a crowd of hobbits, as loud and pushy as always. However, Marigold noticed, there was something missing; it seemed as though the miserable fog had swept through the crowd, taking away all of the usual cheer of market day. There was still laughter, of course, and Goldie heard the voice of the oldest Burrows boy, in the middle of telling yet another one of his absurd stories.

However, she felt uneasy; and the sense of discomfort from earlier in the afternoon had returned in full swing. Marigold frowned slightly and looked sideways at her friend, noticing a similar emotion in her face. She decided not to say anything and instead, taking Rosie by the elbow, she made her way over to one of the stalls.

There was an assembly of pots, pans and kettles, and Goldie began to look for a new tea kettle, remembering the one her older brother had burned in an unsuccessful attempt to make tea on his last visit. Hal had never been one for cooking, and Marigold had always tried to keep him away from the stove on his rare visits. Unfortunately, she had been at Rosie's for the evening, and, well... in short, they needed a new tea kettle.

As Marigold counted out the coins to pay for the new kettle, a sturdy black one she though might even be Halfred-proof, she heard Rosie greeting someone behind her. Goldie turned to face them after putting the wrapped kettle into her basket, and found herself face to face with Estella Bolger.

"Estella!"

She had not seen the hobbitess in months, as the Bolgers resided in the Eastfarthing, but Stella's family had distant, rather stuffy relatives by Hobbiton. Fredegar had begun escaping to Bag End to see Frodo on his family's visits to these relatives, and was usually accompanied by his sister Estella. She soon befriended Marigold and Rosie, and all three shared fond childhood memories of playing house and poking fun at their older brothers.

"Marigold," Estella grinned and the two girls hugged, moving away from the stall to make room for new customers.

"How are things in the Eastfarthing?" Rosie asked, after they had found a comfortable spot by an oak tree in which they could stand untroubled.

"As good as they've always been- the weather has been ridiculous lately, though. My good old brother went off to Crickhollow several nights ago, to stay with friends, and I came here to stay with my aunt." A sudden look of recognition came over the girl's face, "But you know all about the visit to Crickhollow, don't you? It's Frodo Baggins that's moving there, after all! And I hear your brother, Sam, is going with him?" She turned to Marigold at the last sentence.

The oldest lass of the three nodded, sending another knowing look at Rosie, who had blushed slightly at the mention of Sam. "Yes, they left just about a week ago. Sam's going with him to help out with the gardening and housekeeping as I heard Frodo's new home in Buckland hasn't been used in years."

Marigold had her own suspicions on the reasons behind Sam and Frodo's departure, as her brother had been all but kissing every plant in the Bag End garden for weeks before the movie. Before she could share her thoughts with her companions, the three heard a disturbance only several feet away in the form of loud, questioning voices. They scurried over to the crowd forming to find Sancho Proudfoot, standing in the middle of the circle bent in half with his hands on his knees. He was trying to catch his breath before answering the queries of the demanding hobbits.

After several minutes he stood up, concern and fear dancing in his usually friendly eyes. He glanced around the circle before spotting Estella, with Rose and Marigold around her. As if addressing them he spoke .

"Attack on Buckland...just this morning," he managed before a flurry of questions started up again. "Big Folk, they say, appeared in the middle of the night with the fog... from the direction of Hobbiton, no other. They were all black. Attacked a house... Brandybucks had to blow the horns, but they were gone before the dawn."

Marigold took an involuntary step back, as her father's words to Sam, only a week old, came flooding back.

_"There's been a strange customer asking for Mr. Baggins of Bag End... sent him on to Bucklebury. Hissed at me, he did. It gave me quite a shudder. He was tall and black-like... I reckon it was one of the Big Folk from foreign parts."_

She heard the loud voices of the villagers rising again in alarm, clamoring to know what exactly had happened. Goldie looked sideways at Estella, and a look of fear passed between them before the latter stepped out towards Sancho. "Where? Where exactly did they attack?"

Sancho looked up at Estella. "Bucklebury Ferry. And Crickhollow."


	3. 3: Rumours

**DISCLAIMER**: Tolkien's amazing storyline is not mine, I am simply playing with it.

**Chapter Three: Rumours**

_30 September, S.R. 1418_

_Market Day_

_Hobbiton_

"Bucklebury Ferry. And Crickhollow."

Marigold heard Rosie's sharp intake of breath beside her, and tried to push away her own anxiety as she surveyed the scene unfolding before her eyes. It seemed at though all of Hobbiton had gathered around Sancho, and all of the hobbits were in various states of indignation.

"Nonsense, I'll warrant!" The booming voice of Grimaldo Grubb swelled above the voices of the other hobbits. "Those Bucklanders are always imagining things, what with living across the River and right under the old forest!"

"And what do you know of Buckland?!" Lila Goodbody's high-pitched voice rose as well, for she was quick-tempered and very protective of all things near her Eastfarthing home. "I suppose you've never been out of Hobbiton!"

As the various hobbits bickered, all but forgetting the source of their quarrel, Goldie took some time to compose herself. Seizing Sancho Proudfoot by the elbow she dragged him out from the center of the crowd and back towards the secluded oak tree. Several hobbits, including Estella, Rose, and those visiting from the Eastfarthing and Buckland, detached themselves from the crowd and followed.

Merimac Brandybuck was on a business trip from Brandy Hall itself, and, as one of the older hobbits in the crowd, took matters into his own hands. Facing Sancho with a stern but kind look on his face, he began to question the younger lad. The rest of the group hung on to each word.

"Where, exactly, did you hear this, lad?"

Perhaps it was the authoritative look on the older hobbit's face, or the fact that he was still shocked from his news, but the normally temperamental hobbit did not object to being questioned. "I was with my folks at my great-aunt's house, just west of Bywater by the Road. We were just sitting down to elevenses when someone knocked at the door. We opened it, and it was Lorco, the younger son of old Fargo Bunce, telling us that they'd heard the horn-call of the Brandybucks off by the Brandywine well into the night.

"He said that the Master of Buckland had sent out messengers to the surrounding areas, telling them to be careful and keep their doors closed. I guess it's all over the Westfarthing now. Well, Lorco said his father had sent him down the Road to warn all the folks he could. He was so out of sorts that my aunt made him sit down with the family, and told me to run ahead to Hobbiton and tell all the folk I could find, if they hadn't heard yet."

As the hobbit spoke, Marigold found herself marveling at the efficiency of Buckland and the surrounding areas. She did not think that the hobbits of Hobbiton and Bywater could gather their wits together and send out organized messengers so quickly after an attack like the one on Buckland. Merimac, apparently, saw nothing to marvel at and continued his questioning.

"What did Lorco tell you had happened?"

"He said that soon enough after they'd heard the horn call, a servant from Brandy Hall came to the door, seeing as old Fargo's house is the biggest in the area. The servant said that the Big Folk, eerie, black shapes they were, came galloping up past the Bucklebury Ferry sometime in the night. Reached the Brandywine Bridge, though no one was stopping them as they didn't know they were harmful. Almost knocked down a hobbit or two, they did. At Crickhollow, the servant said, the black shapes attacked one of the houses and the hobbit that had been there ran off through the back door and to the nearest home. The black shapes galloped off, nearly took down the gate as they did. He said that there was a deep fog on the land the whole time the Big Folk were there, and that near everyone in Buckland was terrified."

Merimac's frown had deepened as Sancho spoke, and after his last words the older hobbit nodded to the younger. "I don't like these news, not one bit, as there haven't been Big Folk in the Shire doing harm up until this past month. I don't like it." With those words the Brandybuck turned away from the crowd and towards the road, having decided to postpone his business trip until a less tumultuous day.

Marigold felt that the wealth of information they'd just received was simply not enough. Crickhollow! Scarcely a week had passed since her brother and Frodo Baggins had moved there, and a jittery feeling in her stomach told her that the two events had to be connected. On another day, perhaps, she would have brushed it off as a coincidence. But on this day she recalled a conversation she'd had with her brother the day the news that Frodo was selling Bag End and moving to Crickhollow had broken out.

- - -

_"I simply don't see why you must go with him to Buckland!" Marigold had her favorite brother cornered the minute he had entered Number Three Bagshot Row. "Buckland! Samwise Gamgee, you have never been past the River!"_

_"Marigold!" Sam had a defensive expression on his features. "Master Frodo needs someone to do the gardening there at Crickhollow, and he needs someone to help him with housekeeping and such! And to keep him company!"_

_Marigold was not having any of it. She was angry- rightfully so, she felt, as Sam was leaving her alone with her lovestruck sisters and busybody brothers- and she did not believe the ridiculous story about Frodo Baggins' lack of money for an instant. "Well, then, I can't stop you from going off to Buckland, but you can tell me why Master Frodo is going off to Buckland in the first place."_

_Sam shook his head as though exasperated with her lack of understanding, but for an instant before he spoke Marigold saw weariness and fear in his face. "You've heard the rumours, haven't you, Goldie? Old Master Bilbo's money..."_

_"Don't give me that!"_

_"Marigold!"_

_Her temper had, unfortunately, gotten the best of her again. Marigold's mother had often remarked that she didn't know the origins of her youngest daughter's wild temper, and Sam was agreeing wholeheartedly at the moment._

_"I know that the money hasn't run out, Sam. I know it. Mayhaps your friends at the _Green Dragon _believe you, but I don't, not for a second. I help out at Bag End, as much as you do, and I have yet to notice a change for the worse or for the poorer. Master Frodo is spending as much money as ever. What's more, I know that he sold Bag End to Lobelia Sackville-Baggins! Lobelia and Lotho! Are you saying he was out of money, so he sold his beautiful hole to the lowest bidders he could find?"_

_Sam looked utterly defeated and very worried. "Marigold, please, listen to me. I can't tell you everything- I just can't. I've made promises. But I will tell you this much. There's a reason behind this. And it's a good one."_

_"A reason? Has it anything to do with Master Gandalf the Wizard hiding out there at Bag End? With the night you came home looking starry-eyed and singing about elves?"_

_The shrewd expression on Marigold's face reminded Sam that his behavior over the last several weeks had not gone unnoticed. Suddenly he felt an overwhelming desire to tell his youngest sister everything. Perhaps she would understand, perhaps she would understand more than he had._

_"Yes," he limited his reply to one word. Goldie looked taken aback at his honest reply._

_"Yes? So he is not really short on money?"_

_"No. There is trouble, and I don't know the full of it, but it's trouble and Master Frodo needs to get it away from Hobbiton and Bag End."_

_Marigold's flushed cheeks were the only reminded of the flaring temper left. She felt as weary as her brother, and did not think she was fully understanding the things he was telling her. "So he is leaving, leaving for Crickhollow? Perhaps beyond? And you are going with him."_

_"Yes, Marigold, yes. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm leaving you alone."_

_"Not only me. Rosie. The Gaffer. Tom. All of us. Oh, Sam. What is happening?"_

_"I don't know, Marigold, but I must."_

- - -

As she stood there expectantly, waiting for more words to come from Sancho Proudfoot's mouth, Marigold remembered the words Sam had spoken. Trouble. Away from Hobbiton. Promises. And suddenly she had a rather upsetting realization; things would never be the same again. Rosie Cotton looked at her friend with worried eyes, noticing a change in her facial expression and the slightly clouded look in her eyes. "Goldie?" She whispered, but the older lass shook her head and made a 'later' motion with her fingers.

Meanwhile, Estella Bolger attempted to wrestle more information out of Sancho. "Which house? Do you know which Crickhollow house was attacked? Sancho? Answer me!"

The poor lad did not seem to appreciate the hobbitess's forceful demeanour. "Estella. Estella! I don't know much else, only what Lorco told me, and only what Lorco heard from the Brandybucks! I reckon you will know the whole story by tomorrow!" He wrenched himself out of her grasp and walked away from the group of spectators, back down towards the Bywater road, pretending not to hear her mutter 'a Proudfoot- what can you expect?'. The other hobbits had silenced and were now scattering, back towards their respective carts and stalls. It seemed as though the whole market was trying to interpret the news for themselves.


	4. 4: Misgivings

**DISCLAIMER**: Belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. I make no profits from it.

**Chapter Four: Misgivings**

_1 October, 1418 S.R._

_Hobbiton_

She slept fitfully, wandering through senseless dreams she could not remember. Marigold could hear voices in some of them, faint voices that sounded vaguely familiar, but before she could put a face on them the voices were gone and the dream changed. She could not pinpoint the time she had awoken, but a voice rose above the rest, clear and steady, and the lass finally found herself in the real world.

"Master Gamgee?"

"Aye, that's me." She heard her father's familiar voice and opened her eyes, staring up at the low ceiling and listening.

"I have a letter here for you from the Master and Mistress of Buckland. They wished it delivered personally."

"Buckland? I reckon this has somethin' to do with Sam and them." She heard a pause, and muffled sounds as though papers were being exchanged.

"I presume you've heard about the attack on Buckland, yesterday morning?"

"Aye, my daughters mentioned somethin' bout that. Put it off as gossip and nonsense, I did."

"I wish it were so," the voice of the messenger dropped by a few keys and became somewhat graver. Marigold strained to hear. "But it's all in the letter. Good day to you, Master Gamgee. I ought to be on my way. Other letters from Brandy Hall to deliver."

"Good day." She heard the door to their modest yet comfortable hole click shut, and imagined her father was heading towards the kitchen table. A letter! From the Brandybucks, straight to them, simple, working-class hobbits! Marigold felt anxious, as though all of her worst fears were about to be confirmed.

"Goldie!"

The lass jumped straight up in bed, blue eyes darting wildly around the room until she found the source of the voice. It was her older sister, who she shared the room with, standing in the doorway from the kitchen looking both exasperated and amused. She had an apron hanging over her dress and was wiping her hands on it as she looked at Marigold.

"Daisy?"

"Of course, silly. Who'd you think it was? You've been sleepin' for far too long. Missed first breakfast, and about to miss second. You're not feeling ill, are you? Mayhaps the fog yesterday..." A look of matronly concern flashed across Daisy's face and for a moment, Marigold saw her mother in her sister's features. It was a faint reminder of how much the Gamgee siblings had needed each other after their mother's death, when Marigold was so young, not even in her teens. Feeling a surge of affection for her usually quite annoying sister, Marigold shook her head fervently.

"No, no. I feel fine. I just... couldn't get to sleep yesterday, and had a bad dream. Or two. But I'm all fine now." As a matter of fact, she was quite hungry, and could not believe she had missed an entire meal.

"In that case, get yourself presentable and come help me with the food."

They were soon gathered around their table- quite large for a group of three, for when family members with their new families came to call- sipping tea and eating the small meal. Daisy and Marigold's Gaffer soon brought up the letter. Goldie had been dying to read it, but she knew if she asked her father about it, he would go off on a lecture about her "wanting' to know more than is necessary fer a lass o' your age". If he brought it up himself, they could all discuss it to their hearts' content. It was a quirk of her Gaffer's, one that often frustrated her.

"I reckon the both of ye heard the messenger at the door early on- hailed from Buckland, he said. Now, I don't know what them fancy folk from over the River are doing writing to us, but it ought to be important."

He passed the envelope to Goldie in an unspoken agreement. She had learned her letter alongside Sam in Bag End, and while tales of elves and dragons had not captured her heart quite like her brother's, they had done a fiar share of work. Sliding the letter out of the carefully sealed envelope she unfolded it and began to read, somewhat haltingly, in her loud voice.

"_To Master Hamfast Gamgee and Family_

_Number Three Bagshot Row_

_Hobbiton, Westfarthing_

_Mr. Gamgee;_

_I know that we have never met properly, save for several short visits to Bag End over the years, but I, and my husband, felt that this matter was serious enough to be addressed in a personal letter. You are, of course, aware that you son Sam had accompanied Mr. Frodo Baggins on his move to Crickhollow in Buckland. You may have also heard rumours about an attack on the area. I felt that clearing up the facts and details of the matter with you and your family was the least we could do._

_In the early morning of the thirtieth of Halimath, a hobbit named Fredegar Bolger- a close friend of Frodo Baggins and his company- came rushing up to the door of the house nearest to Frodo's new home in Crickhollow. It was a good mile away and Fredegar was quite out of breath, but he said several disjointed words about an attack and him not having something. The Brandybucks understood that there had been an attack of some sort on the area and we sounded the traditional horn call for danger._

_Before we could take matter into out own hands, however, several black shapes on horses galloped towards the Bree road as quickly as they could, nearly running down several hobbits. We determined that they had broken into Frodo's home in Crickhollow. There was a torn cloak, one belonging to Frodo, lying in front of the door._

_We questioned Fredegar in a small group after he had come to his senses. He swore us to secrecy and did not tell us much, but he did tell us some bare details. Apparently, Frodo Baggins had left his new home on a very- he stressed the word very- important and secret mission the same evening he had arrived. He was accompanied by your son Sam, my nephew Peregrin Took, and my son Merry Brandybuck. Fredegar had, apparently, remained to watch the hosue and distract potential visitors. He would not say much on the topic of where our las had gone, only saying a word or two about the Old Forest. _

_I know how worried you must be about your son, and our hearts go out to you, for we find ourselves in the same position. I hope you can find comfort in the fact that they were well on their way when the Black Men attacked Buckland, and that the Men did not take off down the same road as them._

_If you or any of your family have any questions or concerns- or any news about our sons- please feel free to write to us here at Brandy Hall. This is a sad situation, but perhaps all will be soon resolved._

_Yours,_

_Esmeralda Brandybuck, Mistress of Brandy Hall_

_Saradoc Brandybuck, Master of Brandy Hall and Buckland"_

She looked up from the letter, hands shaking ever-so-slightly, not meeting her father's or her sister's eyes. The letter had settled her burning questions, and suddenly fear for her favorite brother consumed all other feelings. She folded the letter again and slid it back into the envelope, putting it down on the table and folding her hands tightly on her lap. _Sam!_ Her mind was calling his name as though he could answer. _Sam! What in the world is happening?!_

"Adventurin'. I always knew he'd go off about it, just not that he'd do it quite so soon. I knew trouble was brewin' when old Master Gandalf paid me that visit a day or two ago." Hamfast Gamgee's voice was as gruff and disdainful as ever, but his daughters recognized a thread of worry behind the words.

"All those dragons and elves and swords. I knew they'd get to him," Daisy's voice was low and it sounded as though she were about to cry.

Marigold had been silent during her family's comments, and suddenly she felt her temper flaring. She willed it to go back down. Now was not the time. She was not angry at anyone in particular, only at the whole wide world and the powers behind it. "Don't blame the elves and swords. Blame Gandalf. And Master Frodo. And the Black Men. And Buckland. Don't blame Master Bilbo's stories."

There had always been a very soft spot in her heart for those stories, especially the ones about Rivendell and the elves of the Last Homely House. Suddenly, Marigold felt as though she needed air. Fresh, cool air. Her head was pounding from all the information she'd just uncovered, her heart was aching with worry for her brother, her throat was aching from all careful the reading she had been doing. Air.

"I'm going to go down to Bywater and the Cottons after we finish eating. They're as good as family, and I know they will want to know." The Gaffer nodded in approval of her idea, and Daisy added her own words.

"I told Bolco- Chubb, that is- that I'd take a walk with him before elvenses. Are you sure you'll be alright alone here, da? I could mayhaps ask him to come back here..."

Marigold glanced at her sister with narrowed eyes, the respect and appreciation from earlier diminishing somewhat. "Bolco Chubb? Still?"

Daisy looked up just as sharply. "Yes, still, Marigold. You're the one goin' off straight to Young Tom Cotton's place, might I remind you?"

Tensions were running high, and Goldie yearned to make a sharp reply, but she thought better of it and shook her head in surrender. The Gaffer, meanwhile, told Daisy to go on, that he had work to do in the garden and would be well on his own.

- - -

She was dressed and ready quite soon, and left the house with a quick goodbye. Marigold had the letter tucked into her pocket and set off swiftly down Bagshot Row. As she reached the lane heading upward to the door of Bag End, however, she glanced up to see a strange sight. Three men- Big Men, just like the one she'd seen in the cart not long ago- stood at the door. They did not look like any she had ever seen before, leastways not at the door to her beloved Bag End, and the sight scared her quite a lot.

Suddenly, Marigold saw one of them turning around. Something deep within her- intuition, perhaps, better known as good Hobbit-sense- warned her that being spotted staring quite openly up at the Men was not a good idea. The lass ducked behind the corner of Widow Rumble's smial and stayed put for a minute, breathing heavily and worriedly. She looked up after a short while to find the Men gone, clearly inside of Bag End.

Her heart, already full of concern and worry, seemed to swell up even more. As the lass set off quickly down the familiar road, she had only one thought floating in her mind. _What is happening?!_


End file.
